(if your heart tells you to) then who are you to question it
by breakingatthecracks
Summary: "Not many people get a second chance at a love they think they've lost. We cannot fault you for wanting to know the answers to your what ifs." [the morning of that epic night in 5x05, Emison]


**A/N: If you're following me on Tumblr, you know that this was a long time coming. It just had to happen. I'm so down for this ship that I just had to write something. HAHA. For those reading my WIP stories, I haven't abandoned them, I just really had to let this one out.**

**Forgive me for all the typos. **

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It's a big lie to say that Emily slept soundly last night.

She didn't.

Emily couldn't sleep with her mind running a thousand miles per hour.

_What happens next? Where does she go from here? Does it mean anything to Ali?_

Those are the questions that kept repeating themselves inside Emily's head, asking them in different voices—sometimes, she hears Aria or Hanna; and the most terrifying is that sometimes, she hears Spencer.

_How will their friends react if they found out? Are they even together now? Does this make Alison her girlfriend?_

Emily sighs heavily as she turns to her right and she instantly sees _her_—the girl she has spent the past few years falling in love with.

Sometimes, Emily thinks that the Alison DiLaurentis she fell in love with wasn't real; that she was just a pigment of young Emily's wild and confused imagination. Maybe, all those parts of Ali that Emily believed to be soft and loveable never really existed in real life. It's hard to believe anything that has happened to her in the last few years. Not even Rosewood's finest police officers can figure out anything, how can sweet and innocent Emily know a thing?

Hell, it's even harder to believe she made it this far alive.

But there's something in Alison that makes her feel real, solid.

All those years, even when Emily wasn't sure what was happening to her, Alison has been the person that guided Emily through the dark. Something in the way her heart beats when Alison is around makes Emily feel like Alison is for real, that there are parts of Alison she only showed to Emily.

That underneath the cruel and ruthless persona she had made known for everyone to see, there's a part of Alison DiLaurentis that cared for someone else other than herself.

It's one of Emily's biggest faults—and believe her, she has many—to always see the good in people; to believe the ends most days don't justify the means; or that people always deserve a second chance. She learned it from her father who spent most of his life seeing other people die because the world didn't agree with them.

Growing up, Emily was told that _love, _love is what makes people good.

Maybe, it's why Emily was—and still is—drawn to Alison; because deep down, she's always loved Alison, irrationally even, and because of that _love_, she sees Alison as more than a person who feeds people with insults for breakfast.

"It's six thirty, Em, and I can hear you thinking."

"Sorry," Emily says, pulling the covers up so it covers all of her, allowing Alison to only see her face.

For the record, nothing happened last night. Aside from a heated makeout session, things didn't go further. Alison had tried, hard, but Emily was the one who hesitated. It would've made a lot of Emily's dreams come to life but Emily knows she wouldn't be able to live with herself knowing she had fallen for one of Alison's games again.

Sharing kisses is one thing.

That other thing is a whole different story.

"How was your sleep?" Alison asks, shifting on her position to face Emily. There's a smile drawing on Alison's lips and God, help Emily because she feels herself melt at it.

"Fine," Emily replies, giving the other girl a small smile.

_Silence_.

Emily wants to ask Ali if she slept well but there's a gnawing feeling in her gut—it's the possibility that Alison might run when she remembers what happened last night.

Alison senses Emily's hesitance but she speaks up anyway, a smile still visible on her face, "I slept well for the first time in over two years."

Something about that confession breaks Emily apart and at the same time puts her back together.

"I'm glad to know that," she says, her breath hitches.

"You should go back to sleep," Alison says as she adjusts closer to Emily.

Emily _almost _stands up.

She _almost _runs but all of her resolve breaks when Alison rests her head on Emily's chest and puts an arm above her stomach. It feels so natural that Emily just _automatically _pulls Alison closer to her, as if it makes everything okay.

You know, Emily always had daydreams about how it would be like if there wasn't –A and Alison didn't disappear.

Spencer would've breezed through high school. Aria would've pursued art classes. Hanna would've ruled the school alongside Alison. Emily would've competed and won championships.

On weekends, Emily had imagined a scene that looks exactly like this—she and Ali, spending quiet time together and later, like any normal teenager, they'd hangout with their friends. They'd hold hands and they get to become the couple that others would hate because they'll make it out of high school and college.

That's why this moment means something else to her.

This is Emily's dream; this her wildest fantasies coming to life—and she can't deny how right this feels. Even amid the chaos and the possible complications, Emily cannot deny that this feels good; that it almost compensates for everything Ali had put her through.

She's no Spencer Hastings but Emily could tell a good thing when she sees it.

"You," Alison speaks up again as she raises her head to look into Emily's eyes, "are thinking too much."

Emily is about to ask her the most important question. She's about to brave this whole thing out, get the record straight. But then again, fate decides come into play.

Her stomach grumbles.

"Ugh," Emily groans in slight embarrassment, a blush creeping up her face.

Alison giggles, "Someone's hungry."

It makes Emily smile, "I barely ate anything last night."

The other girl giggles again and it's slowly becoming one of Emily's favorite sounds in the world. "I'll make you breakfast," Ali says as she makes a move to rise up from bed.

Before she completely untangles herself off of Emily, she kisses the brunette's cheek like she's been doing it all her life, "Come down in 10, okay? And text Hanna, she's been texting you all night."

"Yeah, okay," Emily mutters, still quite taken aback by how natural this feels.

_I can live with this_, she catches herself thinking.

Alison smiles at her and then pecks her lips before completely disappearing out of the room.

It's unbelievable how _wide _Emily smiles once Alison has disappeared. Her heart is threatening to jump out of its place and her whole body is almost jumpy in joy.

It's a foreign feeling—to be this happy and free.

Emily's never one to be okay when things are uncertain but Alison, just like always, is an exception to that rule.

Alison DiLaurentis is the exception to a lot Emily's rules. It's unnerving but somehow, it latches Emily together. All those years of wondering whether or not she had imagined the small touches, the flirty remarks—those are gone now.

What she has right now is a girl who came out of hiding and risked her life twice to save her. What she has right now is Alison DiLaurentis, confessing that those little kisses they shared before weren't just for practice.

The ball is on Emily's court now.

Is she going to believe the girl who spent the last few years making them believe she was dead?

Alison did horrible things, not even Emily—a girl who's head over heels in love with her—can deny that. But Emily's strongest suit is her ability to forgive, to give people chances.

She's done this so many times for a lot of people, including the girl who once tried to drown her. Why not give Alison a chance?

Emily's head starts to hurt with all the thoughts swimming in her head.

Maybe, they should talk about it. Would Ali be up to _talking _about it?

The sound of her ringtone pulls her out of her reverie. Hanna is calling her and looks like she doesn't have a choice this time.

She answers the call.

"I knew you'd be up this early," Hanna opens, never the one for pleasant greetings.

"Why are you up this early?" Emily counters.

"I've been trying to call you."

"My phone was on _silent_ and I sent you all a text. I told you I'm staying at Alison's."

"Exactly why _we_, all of us, have been texting you."

Emily wouldn't even be surprised if they somehow guessed what's going on. These girls have been her friends for years now—there's no use keeping secrets, or denying truths.

"Why?" she asks, trying to clarify; and also hoping to delay that inevitable moment where she admits she's in the Alison DiLaurentis web once again.

There's a few moments of silence, one that's kinda unusual coming from Hanna. Emily checks her phone if Hanna is still connected and she still is.

"Han?"

She hears a sigh, "Em, just be careful, okay?"

There it is, Hanna's concerned voice. If there was anyone who would know even without Emily saying it out loud, it would be Hanna.

"I know how this looks like, Hanna. But I'm not—"

"Em," she stops her. "You don't have to explain, I get it. I can't say I'm fully on board with it but I get it."

Emily only sighs in defeat.

"Spencer and I stayed up all night talking about it."

"Me and Ali?"

"Duh?"

"Why would you do that?"

"I don't know. Mommy Spencer was so worried and she needed someone to listen to her defend herself to herself against herself."

A part of Emily is annoyed because _of course_, Spencer would have so much to say about it; but another part of her kinda wants to laugh at it. _Of course_, Spencer would have so much to say about it and maybe, that's good because that way, Emily knows she has someone who will lecture her when she needs tough beating.

"Why didn't she call me herself?"

"I think she still remembers what happened the last time she tried to cockblock you and Ali."

"Don't say things like that!"

Hanna giggles and it somehow eases the tension.

_If only it is this easy_.

"Okay, Em," Hanna says, catching her breath from laughing too much. "Just be careful, okay?"

"Thanks, Han, and tell Spencer I'm giving her the right to lecture me if I'm being stupid."

"She doesn't think you're stupid. We don't think you are."

"Yeah?"

"Not many people get a second chance at a love they think they've lost. We cannot fault you for wanting to know the answers to your _what ifs._"

Emily's chest tightens at that, like those words are exactly what she needs to hear. She smiles, "Who are you and where did you take my friend Hanna?"

Hanna laughs, "It's still me. Those were Spencer's words last night, actually."

It makes Emily laugh, too.

"Wait, Em. Don't tell Spencer I quoted her without citing proper attribution. I don't want to hear her lectures about footnoting my term paper."

They both laugh at that.

So, this is how life is without –A.

"Em," she hears Ali call from downstairs. "Come down here," she calls.

"Someone had a good night," Hanna teases.

"Stop."

Hanna giggles, "Too soon?"

"Too soon."

"Okay, I gotta go update Spencer now and then sleep a little more."

"Thanks, Han."

"We love you, Em, okay? We only want this one to work out. We want this to be _it._"

Emily smiles warmly, "Are you quoting Spencer again?"

"No, that's purely Hanna Marin."

_Silence._ After a few seconds, Hanna speaks up again, "You should go now or Ali would think you're talking to someone else and I am not yet ready to see a _jealous _Alison."

Emily rolls her eyes, "Bye Hanna."

"Bye Em."

She hangs up the phone and heads downstairs with the hope that Hanna is right. Maybe, there's a happy ending reserved somewhere for Emily Fields.

.

"Hey," Emily greets as she heads toward the dining area where Alison is busy setting the table up. "Is there anything I could help you with?"

"Nope," Alison says with a smile as she sets the plates down the table. "Just sit. Lo and behold," Alison says, somewhat goofy and _God, _Emily missed her so much, "Alison DiLaurentis' heated up pancakes."

Emily laughs, "What?"

Alison giggles, "My dad already cooked something and there's no way I could have prepared something in such a short time. I hope it's okay or we could just drop by the coffee shop, get breakfast."

Emily can't help but smile as she takes a seat, "No, I'm fine. Can't wait to see how well you've heated up the pancakes."

Alison laughs, actually laughs, and boy, Emily fights the strong urge to stand up and kiss her.

Soon, they're eating breakfast, quietly sharing stories about high school. It's still hard trying not to mention –A or anything related to Shana but they're doing just fine. They both know it isn't gonna be easy moving past everything but they have to start from somewhere.

Amid they're conversation, Emily thinks about Alison. She thinks about the girl across her and realizes that this isn't anymore the Alison she knew from years ago. This isn't the Alison that teased her about her sexuality. This isn't the Alison that picked on people and called them names.

Sure, Alison's signature biting remarks are still there and perhaps, some of _old _Alison will never really leave.

But Emily decides, right there and then, that the Alison DiLaurentis in front of her right now is different. She's sincere and for the first time, she knows that Alison is _listening _when Emily is telling a story. She tells her about how she misses swimming and her teammates, and Emily sees Alison's _interest, _like she _badly _wants to know everything about her world.

It almost feels like Alison is in it for the long haul.

Amid their conversation, Emily blurts it out in a random second of bravery, "What are we doing, Alison?"

Confusion draws on Ali's face before she answers, "We're having breakfast."

"Last night, what was that?"

"We kissed. We made out."

"I know, Ali, but what is it to you? Just tell me, okay? If you're just playing games again, just say something. I will understand that you were scared and you needed someone to hold on to."

"Woah, slow down, Em."

"No, Ali. I can't—" Emily says, pushing her chair backwards as she stands up and stares directly into Alison's eyes. "All of this, it's," a pause, "it's too good to be true. It can't be real. Just tell me if this is a game for you. I'd be pissed but I'd understand. I can handle the truth, Ali. I'm not that girl anymore."

For a moment there, Alison looked like she was hurt by the accusations Emily just babbled out. But she stands her ground, "Em, I meant what I said."

"Which part?"

"All of it," Alison replies as she stands up and walks over to Emily.

It's a staring contest, one that Emily's trying so hard to win but she's close to losing, to melting. She's seeing something foreign in Alison's eyes and if it just wasn't so impossible, Emily could easily call it _love_.

"I was scared, Em. We were so young. How was I supposed to figure it out?"

It wasn't much, hell, it's not even close to the explanation Emily needs but she knows that this is the farthest Alison can go when it comes to that. So, Emily takes it.

"What changed?" she asks.

"I've never felt angrier in my life than how I felt everytime I heard someone had tried to hurt you."

Emily's breath hitches as Alison steps closer.

"Em, you're one of the main reasons that I kept coming back. I could go and disappear forever but if I did that, I would've walked out on the only person who loved me in spite and despite of who I've been. And I may have missed years of high school but I'm not that stupid."

When Alison takes one more step closer to her, Emily steps back. She can't take it, the constant push and pull of emotions that Ali is causing her. It's like she's young _Emily _again except this time, she's braver.

She's braver now in a way that if Alison asks her to jump, she would; this time, with her eyes wide open.

"I want to believe you, Ali but—"

"Em, all I'm asking is a chance," Alison says with a shaky voice. There are tears brimming in her eyes and Emily's heart breaks at it. "I just want you to get to know me; the Alison standing in front of you right now."

And frankly, Emily wants that, too.

Alison continues, "You keep saying that you're not _that _girl anymore. Well, I am not, too. I am not the girl who didn't recognize love when it was standing right in front of her and now I do. I recognize it."

Emily then realizes that it has been Alison's problem all along—that Alison doesn't know how love looks like, or how it feels like. It's because she's been blinded with the idea that love is the same as adoration, as idolization. That love is selfish and needy, and it follows her around like a lap dog.

It is Alison's constricted vision of the world that kept her from seeing Emily and the kind of love Emily has given her. Granted, even Emily didn't know what she was doing—but she knew, deep down, that she has reserved a special place in her heart for Alison.

Emily doesn't know why—or how—but _love _isn't supposed to be understood. It's supposed to be felt. It's supposed to be given away.

The problem with _young _Emily is that she didn't know how to ask for love, or demand for it. Sweet, lovely little Emily grew up with love so enough that she never needed to ask for it.

To Emily, _love _is not a question. It's not something you beg or ask for.

To Emily, _love _is like breathing. You do it without thinking.

"I want to know you, Em. I want to know why, out of the many girls in this town, you had to choose the one who hurt you so many times before. I do not deserve any of this but I want to try."

Tears fall from Alison's eyes and it breaks whatever kind of wall Emily had left. She grabs Alison and wraps her arms around her.

Alison feels more real now than she ever did before. The shorter girl returns the hug.

"I've lost so many people, Em. I don't know what I'd do if I lose you, too."

Right in that moment, Emily feels like this could be it—the beginning of something.

She doesn't say it out right but in her head, Emily had given Alison the nod; the chance to fix Emily's heart that she has broken so many times.

It's funny because at the back of Emily's mind, she knows Alison didn't even need to ask.

Emily's heart is Alison's to take.

_Always was, always will._

* * *

Title is from a song called "Shine" by Birdy.

Thoughts?


End file.
